


Saving Each Other

by Aquien



Series: Saviors [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Demisexual Draco, Depressed Harry, Depression, Established Relationship, Fluff, HP: EWE, Insecure Harry, Lost Harry, M/M, Male Slash, Obsessive Draco, Post-Hogwarts, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquien/pseuds/Aquien
Summary: Leaving Hogwarts, Harry wanted to move in with Draco. Draco, however, did not feel that was a good idea. He feels Harry need to learn to live on his own first. A story about insecurities, about being an absolute mess, and about how hard it is to know what love really is all about.WARNING for things such as depressive thoughts, mentions of self harm, etc.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this in un-beta:ed. Sorry for the grammar and spelling errors (English is not my native language).
> 
> WARNINGS about anxiety, depression etc applies to the whole story. In case of self harm, thoughts of suicide and the like, I'll give specific warnings in the beginning of the chapters.
> 
> I've been thinking that Harry and Draco might be written quite out of character. Especially Harry. It's because I see him as having suffered a major loss (his parents) as an infant, then been living under abusive circumstances for 10 years, and to top it all, fight a dark wizard numerous times from age 11 to finally causing his death at 17. Who wouldn't be all screwed up in the head after that? So, that's the reason of his out of character behavior.

** Harry **

 

“This is it then.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Hard to believe it, ain’t it?”

 

“Yea… Bollocks! I forgot to pack my toothbrush. Do you think the house elves can go fetch it?

 

“Ronald Weasley! Don’t you even dare put that on the elves. Like they aren’t overworked enough as it is. You know, I had a talk with Head Mistress MacGonagall the other day about their compensation. She says they are getting everything they want, but still, that’s not the same as the paychecks and standardized health care that they deserve and need. I mean…”

 

“You’re kidding right?”

 

“Draco, no!”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t start to argue with her on this, please!”

 

“Harry. Stay out of this,” with a determined look, Hermione turned her icy glare toward the lean blond standing next to Harry, looking every bit the aristocrat he was. “What is  your opinion on the rights of House Elves, Draco?” she then asked in a deceptively sweet tone.

 

“They’re natural servants. They are in the position they are, because they want to be,” the blond replied in a voice that tolerated no arguments. Hermione, however, would have none of that. Soon, they were in a full blown argument in which neither one would budge nor compromise.

 

Harry looked at Ron and sighed. “This is it then,” he repeated, starting anew the conversation that had started the whole mess.

 

“Yeah,” Ron replied, looking around at the platform. “Our last ride on the train.”

 

“Yeah. I can’t really believe it, you know.”

 

“Me neither mate, me neither.”

 

“So, you and Greg are really moving in together then?”

 

“Yeah, we signed the lease by owl just yesterday. It’s not much of an apartment, but it’s a start.” 

 

“I’m sure it will be great mate, don’t you worry. When will your acceptance letter from the Auror Academy arrive?”

 

“End of month,” the red head suddenly looked nervous. “I really hope I’ll get in. I have no other plan.”

 

“Ron. You know it’s just a formality. We all got offered jobs as Aurors last year. Nothing has changed. You’ll get you letter. What about Greg?”

 

“He’ll start looking at positions as an apprentice chef as soon as we’ve settled in. School’s not really his thing, so we figured practical training would be better.”

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry turned his face away as he spoke. He did his best to accept Greg and Ron’s relationship, but truth be told, he had a tough time getting any sort of handle on the big guy. Greg seldom spoke in anything else than grunts, and although he had been hanging out with them regularly since he and Ron made their relationship official, Harry felt he just didn’t know the guy. He seemed to make Ron more confident and relaxed though, so that was good.

 

“What about you and Malfoy? Have you decided your living arrangements yet?”

 

“Nothing permanent. I’m moving in to Grimmauld Place; I just can’t stomach moving into the Manor, you know? Draco has to go take care of his mother though. She’s in a bad shape. So he’ll go there, and then later maybe, we’ll see…” Harry’s voice drifted, as he really did not want to think about the subject. They had almost had a fight the other day, as Harry had wanted Draco to move in with him, but Draco had avoided giving him an answer for days and then when cornered, had told Harry he had to take care of his mother. It all felt like excuses to Harry. They had been interrupted before they had the chance to talk - or argue - it out though, and now there was an air of awkwardness between them.

 

Ron looked like he was going to push the issue, but Harry was saved as Millicent and Greg arrived with their trunks. Greg immediately went over to Ron and handed him a small package.

 

“My toothbrush!” Ron exclaimed in surprise. “How’d you know I forgot it?”

 

“Saw it,” Greg replied with a shrug, as usual using no more words than strictly necessary. Harry could not help wondering what a discussion between the pair might be like.

 

Meanwhile, Millicent had walked over to Hermione and Draco. She stood listening to them for a while with an amused smile.

 

“Hoi, Harry!” she suddenly hollered, startling the arguing pair to silence. “Why’d you let these two start a circus show before I got here to watch too?” Grinning big she looked at the two fighters, who were now glaring at her instead. “So, are we getting on the train, or do you plan on continuing the show?” without waiting for an answer, she made her way up to the train.

 

Shooting a glare at Hermione that said he was not changing his opinion, Draco walked over to Harry. ‘Mione glared back defiantly, before climbing on board the train.

 

“Where’s Pansy and Blaise?” Harry asked Draco to get his thoughts on other things.

 

“Apparently they aren’t ‘nostalgic twits’ as Pans put it and therefore opted to apparate from Hogsmead instead of taking the train,” Draco replied with a smirk. “Are you coming?” he then continued before following the rest.

 

The six of them shared the same compartment, although Draco and Hermione carefully chose seats as far from each other as possibly.  


 

  
*******

 

 

The trip back to London was over far too fast for Harry taste. Soon they were standing on the platform 9 3/4 hugging each other goodbye. Hermione and Millicent were heading right for the next portkey to Australia, not wanting to miss any more time. Promising to keep in touch about their progress, they left the four guys standing awkwardly in a semicircle, looking at each other.

 

“Yeah, well… We should get going, wanna get settled in our new place before evening, yeah,” Ron finally gruffed out, with a nod at Greg and then they were gone too, leaving only Harry and Draco standing there in silence. Without speaking, they walked beside each other through the station and up to where a carriage carrying the Malfoy insignia was waiting for Draco.

 

For a while they just stood there, looking at each other. Finally, Harry could not take it anymore, but spoke up.

 

“I could come with you. To the Manor.”

 

“We talked about this. You aren’t ready. You need to get strong on your own,” Draco answered, but he would not meet Harry’s eyes as he spoke. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry nodded and tried to speak.

 

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just that… I’ll miss you.”

 

“Harry. We’ll firecall every night, if you want to. And I’ll visit as often as I can.”

 

“How often will that be?”

 

“I can’t say.. I’m head of the Malfoy family now. I need to go through a lot of paperwork to see where we stand and then try to get our name cleared again. Build a new reputation. I’ll visit as often as I can though,” he stepped closer to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know I love you, right?” 

 

“I guess. It’s just that…” Harry hated how petulant he sounded, but he just could not help it. He tried to believe Draco’s words, but everything inside him was screaming that Draco really just wanted to get away from him.

 

“I know, Harry. I’m sorry, I really would like to move in together, I would. I just truly believe you should learn to live by your own first. I will be there for you. You can call me anytime, you know that. And I WILL visit. I just can’t schedule it right now,” he moved even closer so that he could draw Harry close in a tight hug as he continued to speak. “I never thought I’d want to be in a relationship with anyone. I never thought I’d love anyone in any other way than platonic love. You need to know that. You need to remember that. That even when we’re apart and you feel like I’m abandoning you, I’m still with you. I’ve got no interest in anyone else. I love you, Harry Potter, and I promise you, one day we will live together and have a proper family.” He paused before moving so that he could look Harry straight in the eyes. “And I always keep my promises,” he added just before his lips met Harry’s.

 

 

** *** **

 

 

After Draco had left, Harry slowly made his way to the apparation point, pushing the trolley with his trunks slowly as he dragged his feet. He wanted to believe Draco’s words, but it was hard. When Draco was there he acted like a barrier between Harry and his self doubt, but now Harry was all alone and could not help feeling like that was how it would always be.

 

No matter how slowly he walked, he soon reached the apparation point. Levitating the trunks from the trolley before returning it to where it could be found by the Muggle train station workers, he stood there for a moment. Drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly he then resolutely took a hold of his trunks and apparated to the front of Grimmauld Place 12. His home.

 

 

** *** **

 

 

Standing outside his home, Harry didn’t leave himself any time to think. He was afraid that if he did, he would freeze completely and keep standing out there in the street for the foreseeable future. Not thinking about anything he levitated his trunks up the stairs, opened the door and put them inside. Drawing a deep breath, he stepped inside and let the door close behind him.

 

Harry had not been to Grimmauld place since the war ended, and apparently so had no one else. Thankfully the curtain covering the portrait of Mrs Black was covered, but that was the only thing to be thankful for. The air was dusty and stale and no trace of the sunny summer day made it inside.

 

He left his trunks there, just inside the door, as he himself made his way through his new home. The whole floor downstairs was the same - depressingly dark and with a thick layer of dust covering every surface there was. Harry briefly thought about going upstairs and check on the bedrooms, but that was where his strength just ended. In a haze he made it into the sitting room and slumped down on the moth eaten and dust-covered sofa.

 

This was it. His home. His friends were all scattered with the wind, and who knew when he would see Draco again. Who knew when he would see anyone again? He had no plans for his future. Everyone had kept asking him, demanding to know if he had applied for a school, gotten a job straight away or what his plans were. He had evaded them, answering elusively and giving the impression that he did, in fact, have a very sure and stable plan for his future. The truth, however, was a whole different story.

 

He had not filled in a single application for anything. Not for an education, not for a job. As the bloody Savior, he had received several job offers, but he had not been able to bring himself to accepting any of them, instead he had thrown them in the fire as soon as he got them. He had no plan. He did not even have a faint idea for a plan.

 

He had no clue whatsoever what he was going to do with himself now. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to be with Draco. And now Draco had gone to the Manor, expecting Harry to make it by himself. To make a life for himself. Only then, would they make a life together.

 

Harry felt the dark cloud of anxiety grip him. His throat tightened and it got harder and harder to breathe. A heavy pain settled in the pit of his stomach.

 

He could not do this. He just could not make it by himself! He had no idea what he should do. What he wanted to do.

 

He needed Draco.

 

He had been in such a bad place, before Draco. He had been about to shatter. Draco had stood beside him, as he had started to put together the pieces of his life. But he wasn’t finished! The end of Hogwarts had come to soon. He had not figured it all out yet. He needed more time. More time with Draco close by, there to hold on to him when he started to fall.

 

He was breathing more and more heavily, short gasps for air that just seemed to increase the pain in his stomach and harden the constriction in his throat.

 

He could not do this. Why did everyone expect him to be able to do this? No one had ever thought him about making plans for his life. The Dursley’s sure had not. He was a failure, they knew it, and he knew it. Why could not anyone else see it? He was not fit for this world! He had done the deed, killed Voldemort, and now he was finished. Done.

 

There was nothing for him left. He had used up all his skills, all he was good for.

 

The darkness seemed to increase around him, as if he was sucking even the faint light out of his surroundings. The dust from the air made him cough as his breathing got even worse.

 

He could not do this. He just could not.

 

He started to claw at his throat, feeling as if he was choking on his own tongue. Tears were flowing down his cheeks, but he was not even aware of crying. He just had to do something, to get air into his lungs again.

 

He needed Draco, but Draco was not here. He was alone.

 

Falling down on the floor, gasping for air and clawing gashes into his face, he tried to breathe.

 

* * *

 

 

Draco

 

Draco sat stiffly in the carriage as it drove him to the Manor. He could have apparated there, and usually he would have, but this time he just needed a little time for himself first. To relax had been the idea, but that seemed to be an impossible task. He should just have gone there straight away and gotten it over with.

 

He just did not want to see Mother. Or, to be exact, he wanted to, but he was afraid of what he would find. He wanted his mother as she was before, but the sporadic communications from Drigg, the House-elf in charge, had told him that Mother had slipped even further away from him. Deep in her delusions and constantly in a drugged state, there would be no reaching her. Still, he had to try.

 

He had told Harry he could not save anyone that did not want to be saved. That they had to want to be saved and save themselves. He firmly thought that to be the truth, but he still had to try to save Mother. She was all the family he had left. He just had to save her. He had to, no options allowed.

 

Which meant, getting better care for her. That would be step one. There was no Healers worth the name that wanted to take pity on a Malfoy though. Not even if paid more than they would make during their whole lifetime otherwise. That meant that it fell on Draco’s shoulders to restore his family name. Either that, or find a Healer with as dark a past as themselves, and using one like that would only further tarnish the Malfoy name if they were found out. No, he had to find a way to reclaim what they had lost. He had to do it, if not for himself, then for Mother. Because whether she wanted it or not, he would save her. He just had to.

 

And then there was, of course, Harry. His heart had almost broken at the sight of Harry’s face as he left him outside the station. He had wanted to run to him, take him in his arms and just take care of him. He could not though. He was going to the Manor, and Harry was not strong enough to face that. He had been through hell there, and so had his friends. Draco could not put it on his consciousness to take Harry there, as fragile as he was. Draco had thought about accompanying Harry to Grimmauld Place, but he knew that was only putting of going to the Manor himself. He had to go there now or risk never being able to face it.

 

Also, what he had told Harry was true. Harry needed to learn to trust himself again. He had gotten so lost after all the pressure, that he had lost the trust in his own abilities. He had to learn and see that he was capable. Draco would try and help show him that, if he only could find out how. Right now, he just hoped that going alone to Grimmauld Place and just starting to make it into a home would be a start. Draco would try his best to be able to drop by the next day and see how he had gotten started.

 

It was not like Harry had gone off to face Voldemort alone again. He had just gone to his new home. Draco had not been to the old Black residence since he was a small child, and his memories were faint. Quite dark and depressing, he would guess, but he knew that the Order had used it as it’s base though, that had been relieved to him after the war. So he was sure that they had left it all cleaned up and pine fresh, a suitable palace for their beloved Savior.

 

Harry would be fine, he told himself repeatedly. If Harry was to learn to trust himself and his abilities again, Draco had to show him he trusted them as well.

 

Harry would be fine.

 

Mother would be fine.

 

The Malfoy name would be restored.

 

Draco would see to it. One way or the other. He had to. Failure just was not an option.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for a potentially TRIGGERING, abusive sex scene. Or rather a memory of one. Not drarry, not rape, but not nice either. It's a short one though.

** Harry **

 

When Harry woke up he was freezing cold and aching all over. He was surrounded by darkness and for a moment he panicked, not remembering where he was. As he sat up and his back hit the sofa, causing a dust cloud to erupt, he remembered. He was home.

 

He fumbled around for a while before finding his wand. It had dropped to the floor beside him. It took a few tries to get his voice working and his wand movement stable enough, but then he managed a  lumos . The magic light filled the room and made it brighter than it had been even during daytime. As he looked around he realized that it was not in as bad shape as it had seemed. The thick layer of dust seemed to be the biggest problem. The heavy curtains were drawn almost shut, explaining the darkness that had prevailed even during the day.

 

On shaky legs he got up on his feet. Refusing to think, refusing to feel anything at all, he gathered all that was left of his determination and strength, and started to spell the dust away. It was a tedious job and even done with magic, it took him closer to an hour to finish. Collapsing on the now dust-free sofa, he levitated a thin shrug he saw hanging on the nearby armchair over and covered himself with it. Closing his eyes once more, his last thought was that maybe, just maybe, waking in a clean room would make the next day seem at least a little less bleak.

 

***

 

He awoke with a withheld scream a couple of hours later. He could not remember clearly what he had dreamed, but he had felt like he was suffocating. He just did not remember why. He was sure though, that he really did not want to remember why. He reached for his wand to cast a tempus charm. 4:49am. He sighed. It was no use trying to get back to sleep. He sat up, burying his head in his hand for a moment.

 

The house was quiet. A slight creak here, a faint knocking sound there. Sounds of a house settling. Nothing else. All sounds from the street outside were shielded away by magic. In the early morning hour it felt like he was the only one left in the world.

 

He made himself get up from the sofa before the anxiety growing inside him became a full grown panic attack. Coffee. He needed coffee. Making his way to the kitchen, he hoped there would be at least some year old instant coffee left by the Order.

 

Rummaging through the kitchen cabinets proved no such luck. After almost giving up hope, he did find a couple of teabags in a sealed jar though. Figuring that was better than nothing, he quickly boiled some water. After brewing his tea as strong as possible, he sat down at the table. He needed to make up a plan for the day. He needed to focus on something to do, so that he would not have time to fall apart.

 

First, he needed coffee. Some food would probably be good as well, he thought, although he was used to ignoring his hunger. Growing up with the Dursley’s had thought him that. It would be some hours before any of the markets opened though, so he needed to come up with something to distract himself with until then.

 

Sitting there, slowly sipping his tea, he felt the dark thoughts gather. His breathing became heavier and he knew that he needed to get up and do something before it was too late. His every instinct told him to just curl up in fetus position under the worn blanket and let the panic take him. In his mind he saw Draco though, and how he had had looked when telling him he could do this. Draco believed he could do this. Draco believed he needed to do this. Harry might not believe it, but for now he took strength from Draco’s belief in him and got up on his feet. Routine, he needed to stick to routines. He was not in Hogwarts anymore, so his routine forcibly would have to undergo some changes, but he would do as good as he could.

 

It was morning, and he had had his tea. He had not washed up though. Usually he did that before breakfast. Well, it was not too late. He went out to were he had left his trunks and opened them, finding a change of clothes before heading for the downstairs bathroom. His memories told him the upstairs bathroom was preferable, but for some reason he just could not face going up the stairs, to look at all the empty rooms he knew was there. The first floor was big and empty enough for him right now.

 

There was an old bathtub in the bathroom and as it was filling up, he looked around for towels. There was a couple in a close by cabinet. They were dusty, but seemed clean underneath, so after spelling the dust away he deemed them fit for use. He also found a small piece of soap that did not smell too bad.

 

The water in the tub was almost too hot, but Harry found that just right. The water forced his tense muscles to relax and the stinging burn it caused relaxed his mind. For a while, he just soaked, finally able to relax a little. As the water cooled and he got used to it, it became harder and harder to keep relaxed though. Finally, he sat up and reached for the bar of soap.

 

As he lathered himself up, his mind traveled to much more pleasurable moments. More specific, to the last time he and Draco had engaged in a friendly round of seeker games. Afterward, they had helped each other clean up, throughly. Harry’s cock twitched at the memory of Draco’s soapy fingers up his arse and then a moment later how he’d had to support himself against the shower wall as Draco had knelt behind him, his nimble and curious tongue pushing deeper into Harry than he thought would be possible.

 

Groaning at the memory, his legs now parted as much as possible in the tub, he fingered his hole lightly, just as the other hand lazily stroke his rapidly hardening cock. The soap lay forgotten at the side. When Harry had been ready to fall on his knees in need, begging Draco to take him, he had done just that. Turning Harry around, he had pushed into his wet and ready hole in one agonizingly slow go, hitting Harry’s prostrate in a by then well practiced move. Only a couple of thrusts had been needed and then they had both fallen in a gasping heap on the floor.

 

To the memory of Draco coming hard inside him, filling him up with his hot cum, Harry was now rapidly approaching climax. His strokes became almost frantic, as he remembered how Draco had held him, the feeling of his breath hot on Harry’s neck, his cum dripping slowly out of Harry’s arse as they lay there together, trying to gather their breath and enough strength to get up before someone came looking for them. At the memory of how Draco then had turned him over to face him, before bringing their lips together in a loving kiss, Harry now once again came screaming, three of his fingers as deep in his own arse as he could reach, the other pumping frantically.

 

When he was able he resumed washing himself, mind oddly numb. When ready, he dried himself and threw on the pair of clean boxers he had taken from his trunks. The rest of his clean clothes he just left there, as he made his way back to the sitting room. He sat down stiffly on the sofa. The bath had been relaxing and jerking himself off even more so, but the latter had left him with an aching, empty feeling. He curled up in the corner, trying to make himself as small as possible.

 

He did not want to know what made him feel like this. The memory of he and Draco together had been so happy. Jerking off to it should have been relaxing. Still, it had left him feeling even emptier than before. What was wrong with him? He wished he would cry, that he would have the energy to smash something in frustration. Instead, he just seemed to freeze up. Getting rigid and cold inside out. “What if, what if, what if…” a small voice he knew was his own repeated in his head. He wanted to punch it out, shut it up before it would be able to finish the thought. “What if…”

 

“…that time in the showers with Draco…”

 

“Shutitshutitshutit SHUT IT!” he screamed at himself inside his own head.

 

“…was the last time. Ever.”

 

“Nonono, he’ll be back, he promised, we haven’t broken up, he’ll be back, he’ll be…”

 

“Are you sure about that? He didn’t seem too eager to make up plans. What if he’ll just forget you now, move on to other, more stable men? Someone who could be all that he deserves to have? Are you sure…”

 

“He’ll be back!”

 

“Really? You’re absolutely sure?”

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

“If you say so…”

 

“Yes. No. He’ll be back.”

 

“There, there. Who’d be back to someone as broken as you. But don’t you worry. You’ll have your memories. You’ll just jerk off to them, alone here in this empty, dusty and dark house. For. The. Rest. Of. Your. Life.”

 

“…”

 

“Poor, little Harry, all alone. Always alone. What a savior you are. Jerking off to the memories of a boyfriend long gone. How could you ever believe someone would stay with you? Hermione’s gone to Australia, Ron is shaking up with that big buffoon. They’ll forget about you. With Voldemort gone, no one needs you any more. Face it, you’re useless.”

 

“… no …” he tried to protest, but he wouldn’t listen to himself.

 

“Oh yes. Just wait and see. No one will come knocking on your door. No one will ask for you. Maybe at first, out of pity, there’ll be an owl or two. But as time goes by, they’ll forget you. When they find out you’re of no use to them anymore, they’ll just throw you away as an used up toy.”

 

“… Draco won’t…”

 

“Draco’ll find a proper boyfriend. Someone worth marrying. Someone that can be relied on to take care of themselves and to have children with. Someone who’s not a complete, pathetic mess. The Malfoy name might be in disgrace right now, but you know Draco. If anyone can restore it, it’s him. He’ll be back among the proper circles sooner than you think, and then he can’t have you weighing him down. You’ll see. He sure will see. If he hasn’t already.”

 

“… I …”

 

“Face the facts already. You’re useless! Now, why don’t you jerk off to some other memory for awhile. I know! Jerk off to the one in the alley. The one that spit you in the face as you sucked him off, calling you a filthy whore and you just kept sucking. You just kept doing everything he asked, begging for it, down there on your knees in the dirt where you belong! Do you remember how you came screaming, as he fucked you hard there in the dirt. How you came as he called you a worthless piece of shit, and with his snotty spit still stuck to your chin. Remember how you thanked him afterward, as he pushed you down to his crotch, forcing you to clean him up with your mouth? Do you remember how he peed on you, when you were finished, and how you still begged him to stay for just a moment longer? Why don’t you jerk off to that memory now, you filthy, worthless piece of shit? ”

 

Harry was now sobbing desperately, but there still was no tears. He was right. He did belong in the dirt. The things he’d done that summer, before Draco… He was so, so stupid for ever letting himself believe that he could rise up from that. That he’d ever be a worthy boyfriend to anyone, let alone to someone as pure and perfect as Draco.

 

He wished he had his razor, but he had, with Draco’s help, managed to obliterate it. They had made it into a small ceremony, after he had gone a whole month without cutting. Afterward, Draco had fucked him silly. At that memory, the tears finally came.

 

***

 

When he had no tears left, he just lay there, numb once again. When he finally got the strength, he slowly made his way back to the bathroom where he had left his wand. A quick tempus told him the stores should all be open now. A quick look in the mirror told him he looked almost as bad as he felt. He dressed without thinking and left the house. When he was outside the wards, he apparated to the apparation point closest to Gringott’s. He had some money, but he figured he’d probably use the market closest to his house, and as that was a muggle market, he needed to get some muggle money.

 

When he had gotten his money, he thought about staying for a while in Diagon Alley, maybe get something to eat, maybe run into someone… Who’d then take one look at him and feel obliged to ask what was wrong and pretend they cared. No thanks. With that thought, he apparated back home, and went to the corner market. After coffee, he filled his shopping basket up with some toast and butter, eggs and bacon. Too tired to even think about making something more complicated for dinner, he thought that would just have to do. Before leaving, he threw in a six pack of beers though. Maybe they would help making the cleaning go faster.

 

***

 

As he got back home he put on some coffee and as it was brewing, he opened his first beer. Better start dusting and keep from thinking. Coffee, beer and dusting. A suitable plan for the day he was having.

 

* * *

 

 

** Draco **

 

Returning to the Manor had been both easier and worse than he had feared. Mother had been lost in her own world, greeting him as Lucius. He had tried getting through to her for a while, but soon he had given that up for another day. She seemed happy, in a strange way though. She tended her herbs in the garden, and walked around with an almost constant smile on her face. He’d catch her talking to trees and statues and portraits, all in the believe that they too were Lucius. She seemed to think they had just gotten married.

 

As he had prepared to go to sleep that night, he had wondered about that. Mother was happy, but happy because of her delusions. If he managed to break those delusions, she would have to face a world where her beloved Lucius had died, locked away in Azkaban far from her, for unspeakable crimes. She would have to face the memories of Voldemort living in the Manor, and she would then know how Draco was such a disappointment to them all.

 

Would it not be better to leave her to her delusions? He missed his mother, but wasn’t it selfish for him to want her back if that caused her pain? He struggled with that without coming to a conclusion. At last he had gone to sleep, thinking that it did not matter for now. As it was, he had no chance to break through to her anyway. He would have to work on getting their reputation fixed first, and then, when he would be able to get her the help she needed, only then would he decide if it were out of selfish need or out of true concern for his mother that he’d try to break down her delusions.

 

His last thought as he fell asleep was not of Mother though, it was of Harry. He wondered how he was doing. For a short moment, he wished he were there. They had not managed to sneak away too many nights sleeping together at Hogwarts, but there had been a couple. Harry was not ready to move in together though. Draco knew it would be a bad idea, even if Harry did not realize it. It was better this way. He would visit Harry tomorrow though.

 

***  


 

The next day house elves brought him breakfast in bed. He asked about his mother’s doing, and after being satisfied she was as good as could be expected, he made his way to Father’s old study. Lunch was brought to him there, as he spent the whole day going through all the files and records Lucius had left behind. They were so extensive that come dinner time, Draco had only finished of a minor part of them all. The memory of his father’s voice told him to keep going, to ignore everything else, that this was what was important. He had to get through it all, if he would have any chance of coming up with a strategy on how to restore their name.

 

The memory of Father’s voice was easier to say no to though, than the real thing had been. Harry needed him as well, he was important too. Also, he was getting cross-eyes from all the reading anyway. A break would only do him good, and then he could resume his work with fresh eyes.

 

Resolutely he got up and went to the floo. As he tried to floo to Grimmauld place, it did not work. He just would not get through. He realized Harry must have forgotten to allow access to the floo from the Malfoy Manor. The ward’s probably would not let him through either - he was fairly sure he would probably not even be able to find it. Annoyed with himself for failing to think of this in advance, he went up to the owlery. Hopefully Harry would reply soon and open up his floo so that Draco might go over.

 

***

 

“Okay honey buns, one floooooo coming up. Op’nin up. Ya know, yeah. Come one, come all, Harry’s floo is OPEN for business!!!!”

 

Draco frowned at the strange reply. It was clearly written by Harry, but his penmanship was even worse than his usual chicken scratches. Not to mention the strangeness of the message in itself. Well, no matter, at least it seemed like Harry would have opened up his floo to access from the Manor now. Draco hoped that that was what it meant, and one try later proved him right as he stepped through the fireplace to the one at Grimmauld Place 12.

 

“Draaacooooo! You’re here!” Draco was met with an overly enthusiastic welcome and soon found himself with an armful of madly giggling Harry.

 

“Uhmm… Are you… drunk?”

 

“Naah, just a little, tiny, tiny bit. Maybe,” Harry replied midst giggles, all the while struggling to keep to his feet.

 

“Harry. How much have you drunk? And why?”

 

“Just a couple. I think. Now shhhhh!” putting a finger to his lips he took a hold of Draco and attempted to draw him down on the nearby sofa. Draco carefully sat down, and Harry promptly positioned himself on his lap, starting to kiss him all over; wet, sloppy kisses.

 

“Harry, wait just a minute.”

 

“Shhh! We’re gona have sex now. Fuck me Draco, you know you want to!”

 

“Maybe later. What is going on?”

 

“What is going on is that you came back and now we’re gona f - u - c - k !”

 

“What do you mean I came back? I haven’t been here since I was a small child.”

 

“Not back here, you silly. Back to me,” at those last words, tears suddenly filled Harry’s eyes. “I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he cried, suddenly sobbing into Draco’s shirt. Draco sighed and patted him awkwardly on the back.

 

“Calm down. Harry, I told you I wasn’t leaving you. I told you, I’d visit. I love you. Try to believe me.”

 

“Really? You love me?”

 

“Yes. Now, why don’t you get a house elf to bring us some tea?”

 

“House elf? There’s no house elves here. ‘Mione would have a fit!”

 

“No house elves? How on earth are you going to keep this whole place clean if you have no elves? You have to have at least a couple.”

 

“No, no, no. That’s not right. ‘Mione says…”

 

“Granger says a lot of things. Also, she doesn’t know everything. I admit, wizards could treat elves better, she might have a point there. Still, they do love to serve and take care of us. What happened to the old Black’ elves?”

 

“I’ve only ever met Kreacher. Seriously creepy lil’ dude. He’s at Hogwarts now. I think.”

 

“Could you send for him?”

 

“What? Why? No!”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Didn’t ya listen? He freaks me out!”

 

Draco looked at Harry for a moment, thinking. “We’ll talk about him in the morning, okay. Now, think you can make it to the kitchen?”

 

“Sure I can. Why?”

 

“You need to eat something.”

 

“I could eat you,” Harry’s smile was probably meant to be flirtatious, but as he could barely stay upright, and stank of beer, Draco just sighed. He loved Harry, but this was so not what he had wanted for the evening. Getting up, he pulled Harry after him. When they came out in the corridor leading from the sitting room to the kitchen, Draco stopped. It was dark and damp and from what he could see when he looked through the open doors to a couple of nearby rooms, it was still cleaner than any other place. Harry had clearly tried - and succeeded too - to remove a lot of dust. A years worth at least. That did not do much to help though, as the entrance corridor was just as depressing, if not worse, as Draco remembered from his childhood visits. He sighed to himself. This explained some of Harry’s reason for drinking. A home that looked like something from a nightmare and no elves to help him fix it up, and no other company either. Expression softening, he turned around to face Harry and embraced him.

 

“I didn’t realize, sorry. I thought this place would be fixed up. They should have fixed it up. We’ll fix it up, okay. We’ll make it a home for you, yeah?”

 

“We will?” Harry looked so lost that Draco just wanted to cry.

 

“Yeah, but first, something to eat. Come.” Together they walked to the kitchen. When there, Harry opened the fridge and took some toast from the nearby cabinet. In the fridge, there was nothing but bacon, eggs and butter. “Is this all you have?” Draco asked in shock.

 

“I didn’t feel like cooking. These are my favorites,” came the defensive reply. Draco sighed.

 

“Okay, back to the floo then.”

 

“We’re going somewhere?”

 

“No. I’m calling Drigg. Have him send something over.”

 

***

 

A short while later, they were back in the kitchen, eating the perfectly tendered steak the Malfoy house elves had brought over. As Draco had ordered, the house elves bringing the food had remained at Grimmauld place “at loan” to Harry for the moment. They were already busy cleaning the place. Determining what would need to be done to make it a decent, livable home for Harry, would be much easier after the thick layers of dust were gone.

 

When they had finished eating, Harry was nodding at the table. Quietly taking him by the arm, Draco called one of the elves to ask about the bedrooms, and soon they were making themselves comfortable in one of the upstairs bedrooms that the elves had had time to clean by then.

 

Harry fell asleep almost immediately, curled up close to Draco. It took a little longer for Draco to fall asleep, as he found himself making plans on how he would manage to help take care of Harry now, in addition to Mother and catching up on all Father’s files and notes on the Malfoy family business. It would be a tight schedule, but somehow he would make it work. He had to. There was no one else who could do it.


End file.
